Muscle Memory
by crosbysbitch
Summary: Autumn Dawson runs into an unexpected friend after her hockey game. After talking a while, Autumn is offered an internship to work with the Penguins organization-but, there's just one problem. Sidney Crosby, who Autumn has acquainted with in the past, ignores her and pretends that the two have never met before. Will Autumn be able to reconcile her relationship with Sidney?


I stared down at the bolded font laid in front of me trying the best that I could to remember the names of these prosperous people as if my life depended on it. _Martha Richmand, Wesley Birling, Chester Lennox... _The list went on and on. Cautiously, I bit my lip out of nervousness, my nior painted nails digging into the clip board that I clutched with every fiber of my body. Suddenly, my red laced quarter sleeved dress began to feel tighter than usual. It was my duty to correctly guide these thriving citizens to the table they were assigned to with no issues at all. If I made one mistake, that would be the end of it. I leaned against the wall of the entrance, feeling the coldness of the door transfer to my warm temperatured body.

_Don't do this now, please. You know what happens if you get nervous and freak out. Everything will be okay. _

Out of instinct, I lolled my head against the door, closed my eyes and inhaled all the oxygen that I could. It was a way of calming me down, a method of preventing me from getting overwhelmed. I let the air fill my lungs holding for four seconds until I let out the biggest exhale of life, feeling my worries exit my body as I did so.

"Autumn!"

An electric shock was sent throughout my body as I heard my name echo and bounce off of the walls, the deafening sound waves meeting my ears. I jolted up, pulling myself from the glass doors and suddenly missing the coldness that escaped my body. My eyes wandered to find the specific person who was in search for me.

"Yes?" I questioned, hearing the clank of my heels bang against the floor as I motioned toward the blonde boy, the rhythm matching my heart beat. "Is everything okay?" I stopped in my tracks until I obtained a reasonable distance.

"Everything's alright," he grinned. "I just came to let you know that we're going to be opening the doors in about ten minutes." I nodded at his response, watching him with close eyes. Even with heels on, I still had to crank my neck forward to look at him. His gaze was icy blue but welcoming and his sun kissed skin radiated like no other. He was basically the stereotypical description of a boy from California.

"Okay," I replied, giving off my best smile to show that I was in fact enthusiastic about the event. "Shouldn't you be in the kitchen preparing with the rest of the boys?" I raised my eyebrow, holding onto my clipboard tightly against my chest. A warm chuckle escaped his rosy lips.

"Yes, I know. I just wanted to tell you that everything is going to be perfect just like it is every year," he exclaimed.

"Yeah well, I wasn't here last year, was I?" I answered sarcastically before regretting my tone toward him.

"Would you stop overreacting," he rolled his eyes out of annoyance. My fingers tapped against the hard back of my clipboard as my attention focused onto the floor. "Listen," he called out to me, placing an unexpected hand on my shoulder, the feeling ever so familiar, "you're gonna do great, I know you are." I bit my lip again before my eyes finally met his. He looked confident, almost like he knew there was no way I could mess the night up.

"Thank you," I whispered, appreciating his kindness. "Now head off to the kitchens before I tell Mario that you're not doing what you're supposed to," I joked.

"Wow," he interjected, "that's the last time I'm nice to you," he finalized with a laugh. "I'll see you in there, yeah?" he exclaimed. I nodded and gave him one last smile before watching him turn on his heal and stalk off in the other direction.

I never did get a chance to formally thank him that night. He always seemed to be looking out for the people who surrounded him—it was his instinct; it was his character. He was selfless and had given me an opportunity to prove myself. An opportunity which would change my life forever.

_two weeks earlier_

"How bad do you want this?"

My chapped lips forced themselves into a tight line, eyes shut as I stared into the complete darkness. My lungs burned and my mouth ached for a drop of water like it never had before. I wanted nothing but sleep and to take the longest possible shower known to man—but, that wasn't going to be happening any time soon. Standing strong in my position, I shook my head lightly feeling the strands of my sloppy pony tail stick to the back of my sweat drenched neck. My emerald hues finally shot open, void now turning into the glistening white of the ice I stood upon. I could count the number of times I've been asked this complicated question on both of my hands—times two. The sad part was the same exact answer always came out of me.

"Bad."

I spat the word out of my mouth as if it was some sort of cough that desperately needed to be released. Ripping the navy blue glove from my fingertips, I began to rub my flushed face with my palm hoping that my exhaustion would soon come to an end. "I want it bad coach," I finalized. My gaze soon fixed itself upon the white caged helmet that was grasped in my left hand; my stick remained protected under my arm. For some reason I was too afraid to look at my coach in the eyes, worried that I would be faced with anger—or worse—disappointment.

"Then play like you mean it, Dawson." The words escaped his mouth so effortlessly. Although I was instilled with fear, I took a risky chance by setting my eyes upon the man who stood in front of me. He looked as drained as I did, minus the sweat. Coach Adams' sight was fixated onto me and I couldn't help but stare blankly at him. The wrinkles on his face were settling while his thick rimmed glasses hung low on his nose. "Head off to the locker room then," he rumbled, taking off his cap and turning on his heal as he stalked off from the benches and was clear out of sight. I stood there for a good couple of seconds without moving a single muscle. I hated it when coach was right. It just made me feel like I wasn't contributing anything to my team.

My grip loosened on the helmet as I realized that I was still standing on the scratched up ice. Snapping back to reality, I skated off of the ice, hopped over the benches and waddled my way to the locker room, clutching my gear in all hands. I pushed back a few doors and continued to make my way through the corridor with my head hung low and my pride six feet under. Just as I turned a jagged corner I paused for a brief moment as the sound of rapid whispering soon filled the hallway; the source of the sound coming from the locker room. Without a doubt, I knew my team mates were gossiping about my horrible plays in this morning's game. Besides the fact, I shoved through the cold doors and found the whispering come to an end. My glare was blank, eyes admiring the blue floor work as I made my way to my designated spot and dropped all my gear.

"Today was brutal man," my team mate hollered from the other end of the room. Without a change in expression, my empty stare soon made its way toward her. Caitlin threw her towel out of frustration, head faced down into her red palms.

"Don't beat yourself up too hard," I replied. I was filled with shame. For a second, my eyes wandered and fell upon my name and number engraved on a metal slate that laid above the top of the shelf. "You weren't the one who screwed up anyway," I continued, taking a seat on the wooden bench. I could see from the corner of my eye Caitlin beginning to raise her head as if to say something. I knew she was lost for words as she bit her lip and stared off in the opposite direction. That was a clear answer for me. I began to take off my jersey, tossing it to the side before another voice broke the silence.

"It's no big deal," Aly called from the left of me. "We all have our bad games." I looked over to her as I witnessed a sympathetic look radiating off of her. Not knowing what to say, I turned my attention back to taking off the rest of my gear starting with my skates.

"Where are all of the other girls?" I questioned looking around the change room. There were only the three of us left.

"They left about ten minutes ago. They kind of changed fast without uttering a single word in all honesty," Aly responded. _Ten minutes? _I had no idea I was talking to coach for that long. It wasn't really a surprise to me that the team wanted to get out of the arena as soon as possible.

In about five minutes, all of my hockey gear was removed and packed away. I slipped on my Toronto Maple Leafs hoodie as I noticed Catlin and Aly exchanging quick glances between each other. Right then and there, I knew it was my cue to leave. Completely worn out, I got up from the bench and threw my hockey bag over my shoulder, carrying my stick in my right hand.

"Well I guess I'll see you guys at practice," I half smiled and received a smirk from both girls in return and nothing more. Before I made my final exit, my eyes fell upon the 'Penn State Hockey' sign that was placed high up in the wall in big bold letters. Facing forward once more, my arms began to feel movement again as I pushed passed the doors to finally exit the room. I paused for a moment as I left, my back leaning against the metal door letting out a sigh of frustration.

"What a fucking joke. And she's supposed to be our captain?" The whispering commenced once more and I could tell that this comment was coming from Catlin just by her high pitched voice. I rolled my eyes and shook my head to myself. Some teammate that girl was.

"They made me captain for a reason, Furlong," I raised my voice knowing that she would be able to hear my comment from the inside of the change room. "Come talk to me when you at least make third line, duster." And with that, I made my way out of the rink.

My legs remained as heavy as my hockey equipment did. Besides the point, I continued to push pass the feeling. As soon as I entered the foyer of the Pegula Ice Arena, I noticed that there were still a fair amount of people hanging around. The game ended almost half an hour ago but I could see swarms of people huddling up at a few tables in deep, closed discussions. Others focused their attention toward the plasma screen that was mantled on the wall airing a Flyers game. And of course, the hype of the concessions stand; where the best hot dogs known to man were grilled and served. I realized that I was pretty much standing in the middle of all of this commotion but I didn't mind. My hand still clutched tightly onto my black and red hockey bag with my sick pointed up in my right. It astounded me how all of these people came together as a community in order to share the thing that they loved the most, even after witnessing one of the team's worst games of the season. The buzzing of people's conversations and cheering for their favorite players on the television made me miss my home. A sigh of exhaustion escaped my lips as I decided to continue moving from my statute like position and head out of the complex. I did the best that I could to keep my head down. I was certain nobody would be able to recognize who I was without the uniform—but, the hockey gear was a pretty big give away.

I got a few quick glances from a number of people, some were smirking and others looked at me out of disgust. I guess that was the price I had to pay for being captain. The more I walked, the more I was being gawked at. Within a few moments I did the best that I could to speed walk to the front entrance where I finally excited the arena.

As soon as I was introduced to the crisp November air I let out another deep breath. The sun was still at its peek, radiating its rays onto the pavement of Pennsylvania. I continued to walk, heading for the parking lot as I wanted nothing but to escape the scenery all together. Lugging all of my baggage, I made sure that my eyes were glued to the floor. I tried my best to free my mind from any negative thoughts that were eating me alive but I couldn't. I bit my lip hard, a bad habit that I picked up when my nerves got the best of me. A few moments passed until I reached my car. Dropping all my gear, I began digging through my pockets in search for my keys. Feeling the cold metal against my fingertips, I held onto my keys forcing them though the slot in order to open my trunk—

"So I see you still rep the Leafs," a baritone voice beckoned from behind me. My neck snapped up out of shock as I released my grip on the keys and jolted my body. Quickly I turned around on my toes wanting to see who was picking fun at my attire. My eyes peeked up from the pavement and soon laid upon a tall blonde boy with a bright smile plastered on his face. My jaw dropped to the floor.

"Beau!" I screamed, my hanging mouth now picking up into a wide grin. I rushed over to him, raising my arms and pulling him in for an embrace. I could barley see past his shoulder, that was how tall he was. Once I pulled away, I watched as his blue eyes beamed down to met mine. "I haven't seen you in forever! How have you been? How's hockey going for you? What are you doing here?" All of the questions raced out of my mouth due to my amount of excitement. Beau chuckled at my response.

"I'm doing well, hockey is going great and I came to watch the game with a couple of my buddies," he exclaimed, hair tousling along with the wind. I moved a few steps back, my gaze not leaving him. He was almost unrecognizable since I had seen him last.

"Look at you!" I raised my arms toward him. "You look amazing," I grinned from ear to ear.

"Aw, come on," he chuckled. "Look at you, you're gorgeous Autumn," he moved closer to me, placing a warm hand on my shoulder. "I had no idea that you played for Penn State. Why didn't you ever visit me?" Beau questioned as his voice dropped, removing his hand from my shoulder and placing it by his side.

"I know you've got a lot on your plate right now, I mean you must be busy twenty four seven. Plus we haven't spoken to each other in a long while Beau," I added, biting my lip. Again, there went my nerves.

"I know, I know," he paused. "But I honestly had no idea that you left the Stars. I thought you were still in Montreal all this time!" By Stars, he was referring to the Montreal Stars. A hockey team in the CWHL.

"Yeah I was, but then I ended up getting a scholarship to Penn State. I guess I came here because I wanted to build on my hockey profile, you know, expand myself by doing something big," I finalized, taking a breath after my sentence. Beau stared at me in amazement.

"Wow, that's awesome. How long have you been here for?" he questioned, raising a brow.

"A year," I replied instantly but then looked down. I felt bad that I have been in Pennsylvania for a large amount of time and didn't attempt to contact him. It wasn't like I never thought about him, I just thought we were done with each other.

"You've been here for a year and they've already made you captain?" His eyes widened with excitement. He obviously must have recognized me by my jersey while I was playing on the ice. I nodded slowly before showing off another toothless grin. "How's the, uh—"

"Still bad," I cut him off not giving him a chance to finish his sentence. I knew what he was going to say and in no way shape or form did I want to talk about it. "I mean, it's getting better but that's why I did so horrible in today's game," I cleared my throat, trying to ease the tension. "Anyway, what brings you to come and watch some NCAA hockey mister NHL?" I asked, trying to change the subject. His response was a shrug of shoulders.

"No big reason. Had a day off and wanted to chill with some guys from my team." I smiled, holding tightly on the sleeve of my sweater. "So, where do you live?"

"Not too far from here," letting out a sigh of exhaustion as I crossed my arms together. "I live in an apartment by myself."

"Do you have a job?" he mimicked the crossing of my arms as he leaned against my Honda. Who would of thought; years without talking to someone and as soon as you run into them, it feels just like an interview. I nodded my head from left to right.

"No, I don't," I answered, my tone low. "I'm living off of student loans which isn't really the best thing to do," I paused, trying to catch my breath. "Actually, it's bad. I'm just digging a big hole of debt for myself, but I've tried everything," I admitted, shrugging my shoulders. I watched carefully as Beau's lips formed into a straight line, nodding his head as he did. I moved my gaze to my red car looking over every detail as silence fell between us.

"We should catch up sometime," he broke through the silence. My arms remained crossed and attention still not focused on him. I blinked a few times before finally replying.

"It was nice to see you Beau," I answered without looking at him, beginning to unlock my trunk.

"No, Autumn I'm serious," he pushed my trunk down as I tried to open it forward, preventing me from blocking his view. I didn't want to get into this. I was enjoying my life here and I didn't really want to get involved with anyone from my past. I let out another sigh of frustration before Beau finally spoke out again. "Don't shut me out." I closed my eyes tight at his final words. He didn't deserve this, but neither did I. "Autumn, I think I can help get you a job. Well, an internship at first but that can lead to so many things." My eyes flew open. Not even talking for ten minutes and he wanted to help me out? I dropped my grip from my keys and turned my body to face him.

"Are you serious?" My voice was hard. He looked down upon me with sorrow and guilt, the same feeling I had years ago.

"Of course. There's something happening in the next few weeks at the Consol Energy Cen—" Beau was stopped in mid-sentence again, but not because of me. From a fair distance, there appeared to be a group of boys hollering for Beau; about three or four of them, each wearing a cap on their head. The group of boys then started whistling.

"Looks like Sunshine's got his eyes on a redhead!" One of the boys screamed across the parking lot. So they thought he was hitting on me? I couldn't help but laugh, covering my mouth over with my hand. Beau, however, didn't find it so funny. Annoyed, Beau raised his arm up and pointed his middle finger in the air presenting it to the entire parking lot. Pulling his arm down, Beau finally turned his attention back to me.

"Yeah so those are my dumbass team mates, please ignore them," he shook his head as if he was completely done with life.

"No worries, _Sunshine_," I emphasized the last word, laughing uncontrollably at his nickname.

"Anyway," he shouted, his voice overpowering my laugher, "just give me your number and I'll talk to you about it later on," he spoke as he pulled out his phone from his jean pocket, handing it to me. I clutched onto the phone for my dear life, careful not to drop it. Quickly, I went under Contacts and began typing in my information.

"Oh yeah, Sunshine scored the digits!" A loud voice boomed from a distance.

"Would you guys shut the fuck up!" Beau turned around, furious.

"Dude, she's a Leafs fan! Why are you conversing with the enemy?" A different voice hollered back. At this point, I could not contain my laughter. Once I was finished entering my number, I gave him back his phone.

"It was really great seeing you again, Autumn," he smiled.

"Wait!" I called out before he could walk away, grasping onto his arm. He turned around as fast as possible and looked down at me. "I—uh never got to congratulate you." My words were slow and my voice low. Once Beau had made the NHL I never got the chance to formally congratulate him on his success. I didn't have to go in to much detail as he knew exactly what I was talking about.

"It's okay, Autumn," he smiled while looking down at me. "I'll text you later, yeah?"

"Alright," I nodded as I watched him walk back toward his group of friends. Still laughing to myself, I finally got to unlock my trunk and began loading up all of my equipment. Closing it shut, I rushed to my car door, took a seat and slammed it shut. I could not believe what had just happened. My hands gripped tightly onto the steering wheel as my thoughts were in another place. Who would have guessed that after all of these years we would meet up again? Interrupting my train of thought, I felt a buzz coming from my sweater pocket. Quickly I reached for my phone and unlocked it. I had received a text from a number I didn't recognise, so it must have been Beau. Opening my messages, I was surprised to see what was sent to me.

_I want your mouth on my dick. _

I bursted out laughing. I knew for a fact that one of his friends must have stolen his phone and texted me this.

_Say when and where _is what I ended up replying. A few moments later I received another text.

_Again, those were my loser friends. Please ignore that! _

A second later, I got another message.

_Wait, are you serious?_

I shook my head and chuckled to myself. He was still the same old Beau.

_Of course I'm not serious! Okay I'll text you later, I need to get out of this parking lot before anything else weird happens. _

And with that, I finally drove from the parking lot and headed home. What a day.

"Everyone seems to be settled in, all seats are full and it looks like Dan is going to be making his speech in ten minutes," my fingers fiddled along with the schedule stuck to my clipboard, check marking everything that was going right. My eyes moved from the pale sheets to meet with Mark, another intern at the Con. His glare was smooth, brown eyes focused as he paid close attention to my instructions.

"Dan is going around greeting some of the guests. He knows where he needs to be in ten minutes but I'll go ahead and check up on him," he assured me.

"Okay, in the meantime I'll go in the kitchen and see how everyone's doing. Message me if you need any help, okay?" I spoke, pointing down to the black tablet that laid upon my clipboard. All interns were assigned a tablet for business purposes of course and to also keep in contact with one another while events were taking place.

"Got it," Mark responded, turning on his heal as if he were on a journey to complete a mission.

"Oh, and don't forget to tell Dan to keep the speech short! Dinner needs to get sent out as soon as possible!" I shouted out toward Mark's direction. Back faced toward me, he continued walking while giving me a 'thumbs up' in the air to signal that he got the message. With that, I began to walk down the narrow corridor that led to the kitchen.

My mind was racing a million miles per second. Who would have thought that a few weeks later I would be an intern for the Pittsburgh Penguins organization? Of course, it wasn't just simply handed to me; I had to apply and be interviewed just like everyone else. Out of the plethora of people who applied to be in the position that I was in right now, only a mere five of us made it. I let out a breath of relief as I had finally reached the doors to the kitchen. I was deep within the Consol Energy Center, it was almost confusing—but, I did have my tour around the Con a couple of days before. Of course, I came in today pretty early so that I knew exactly where I was going.

I pushed past the hard doors, my speeding thoughts finally coming to a halt. The kitchen was buzzing, conversation filling the atmosphere from left to right. I could see the Chef's were doing their final plating details with determination set in their eyes.

"Autumn!" a voice called from behind me. I turned in an instant soon to realize that it was Justin shouting my name.

"Yes, is everything okay?" I questioned as I walked toward him with my stomach tied in knots.

"Everything is going great," he smirked, strands of blonde hair falling in his eyelashes but soon pushed them away with the force of his hand. "Appetizers have been sent out and the entrée's are just a few moments away from being served."

"What about Dan, has he already started his speech?" I raised my eyebrow, hoping that things were in proper order.

"Yes, and he's just about done too—" a loud beep interrupted our conversation. Justin jolted out of nervousness, realising that the sound was coming from the slick black tablet that was clasped between his hands. Calming down from the alarming sound, I observed Justin as he quickly unlocked the tablet and scrolled through his messages.

"It's Mark," he started, eyes glued down to the glowing screen, "he says that Beau wants to talk to you. He just finished serving the appetizers." I nodded instantly.

"Okay, I'll make my way back to the arena then. In the meantime, you make sure that the team gets back to the kitchen in two minutes to serve the entrée's," I added before heading for the exit.

"On it!" Justin managed to shout before the metal doors of the kitchen closed behind me

"—On behalf of the Penguins Foundation, Mario Lemieux Foundation and the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation, I thank you tremendously for your support. Together, we come as a community to raise awareness and to soon reach the ultimate goal; a cure for cancer." An abundance of claps arose from the numerous amounts of white cloth tables.

"Now, please enjoy your entrée's which were served by our dedicated team players. Thank you and enjoy the rest of your night." Dan Bylsma exited off the stage, making his way toward a table filled with laughter and conversation. I sat alone fingers crossed and eyes staring at the bright golden "Skates and Plates" poster that was placed high above the stage revealing the team's logo along with the slogan "presented by Trib Total Media" shown in all capital letters at the bottom.

"Hey," my gaze broke from the poster as Mark startled me.

"How's everything?" I asked as he took a seat beside me along the gigantic rectangular table that was right in front of the stage.

"Perfect. Entrée's are done being served so the players will come to the team table and eat themselves," Mark exclaimed, reading off of his tablet.

"Alright, I'll stay around the area and make sure all of the boys get here on time so they'll be ready to serve the main course," I added before Mark nodded and grabbed his tablet, walking in the opposite direction of where he came from. Being a little bit bored, I decided to get up and explore the rest of the arena. Pushing back the egg white chair I began to wonder around the perimeter.

The ice was completely covered in grey flooring; you couldn't even tell that this was an actual hockey rink. It was the thousands of seats surrounding the arena that gave it away. There were about thirty tables in total all drenched in white and perfectly lined up by fives. All tables contained elaborate centerpieces; beautifully decorated flowers that would catch the attention of anyone. Further back were a handful of elegant plants made to set the scenery. The Con was basically transformed into a five star restaurant; it was breath taking.

"Hey, I've been looking for you everywhere," a voice called from behind me. I uncrossed my arms only to find Beau dressed in an all black tux with a white flower pinned near his heart. He was all smiles.

"Oh I'm so sorry Beau, I forgot that you wanted to talk to me. What's up?"

"I wanted to formally introduce you to the rest of the team," Beau explained. That was right, I didn't actually get to meet anyone from the team yet.

"Yeah, that would be great," I nodded, trailing behind Beau as he headed toward the table I was once sitting at. I wasn't going to lie, I was a bit anxious. It wasn't every day that I got to meet such important people in the hockey world—but it wasn't only that;

I was just too nervous to see him.

My heels clanked against the ground, arms dropped to my side as I finally reached the team table. My eyes flew up, examining the group of well dressed men who were deep in conversation, not realizing that I had arrived. I turned to Beau and gave him a 'so what do we do next' expression before I finally spoke up.

"Maybe they're talking about something important, we can come back later," I insisted, about to turn around before I felt a warm grasp on my arm.

"Autumn, it's okay," his voice was smooth like velvet, but words comforting like a fire. I looked up to him for reassurance. "Don't be nervous. I'm here with you," his blue eyes were friendly yet welcoming. Chewing on the bottom of my lip I nodded. Both of us began to walk closer to the table and I felt as if I was about to faint at any moment. Finally, we stopped at the edge. The boys continued in conversation until Beau raised his voice.

"Hey guys," his tone was moderate, but caught the attention of all the players. Almost in sync, several of the boys raised there heads and focused their attention to Beau—then to me.

"I just wanted to introduce you to a friend of mine. She plays for Penn State's woman's hockey team and just started working with our organization on an internship," I looked down at the white cloth table for a brief moment before my hues met with the crowd who was staring at me; a welcoming look radiating off of them.

There appeared to be no sight of him; suddenly, I felt at ease.

"Hi," I coughed, trying to find my voice, "I'm Autumn. It's a pleasure to meet you all, I'm so excited to be working with the Penguins organization. I hope I'll be able to get to know you guys a little bit better," I smiled, trying to find each of their eyes.

"You don't have to ask me twice," a deep tone broke out from the group, along with eruptions of laughter. In an instant, I could feel my face beginning to heat up as I crossed my arms and let my gaze fall back to the floor. "I'm only messing with ya, I'm Brandon by the way," the familiar voice spoke. My head shot up, eyes falling upon upon a light brown haired boy smiling ear to ear.

Of course I recognized him as Brandon Sutter; the Sutter family was very well known in the NHL. I watched cautiously as he got up from where was sitting and walked toward me extending his hand.

"Nice to meet you," swiftly, I raised my arm and gently shook his hand, feeling the closeness of the heat. As I let go of my hand, I could see from the corner of my eye the group of boys getting up from their seats and walking in my direction.

"Hey there, I'm Paul," a voice called from the left of me. I quickly turned reaching over to ginger haired man and shook his hand, showing off my best smile.

"No forget me," a baritone sound over powered the rest. "Hello, am Geno," the six-foot-something man shook my hand with a tight grip, grinning as he stared down at me.

"Lovely to meet you, Gen—"

"Guys, guys, you're never gonna guess what Bortuzzo just did," a rich voice beckoned from behind me chuckling, interrupting my conversation. Quickly, I cranked my neck around, my sight soon settling upon a dark haired figure. I stumbled upon his amber eyes, gaze following along with his attire. He was dressed identical to the other players; black and white suit with a white flower pinned close to the heart. My sight ran from his clothing back to his eyes—his stunningly familiar hues. Soon enough, my heart dropped to my stomach.

There he was.

"Just in time, Sid. I wanted to introduce you to Autumn," Beau lifted up his arm, his rough hands pointing in my direction. At this time I turned my body around so that I was facing Beau. "She's working with our organization under an internship and is captain for Penn State's woman's hockey team."

He looked at me only for a moment; a brief moment and nothing more. The crooked smile that once was stamped upon his chiseled face soon formed into a tight straight line, plump lips shut together. I blinked a few times before I decided to break the silence.

"Hi, it's nice to see you," my voice stammered, but besides the fact, I found enough energy left in my body to pull out another grin. What happened next I recalled happening so fast.

"It's nice to _meet _you," his words were firm and tone strong, and in one single movement, he placed his hand in front of me. My eyes peered upward just to take a quick glance at him, heart pounding against my chest as he corrected my choice of words. His focus was more on his own hand rather than me.

And so, I raised my arm and our hands embraced for only an instant, but the same tension could be felt. He pulled away quickly as I did the same, arms now resting by my side. I looked up at him one last time and finally caught him staring at me.

He hadn't forgotten what happened, oh no.

He just pretended that he had never even knew me.

Sidney Crosby pretended that he had never even _met _me.


End file.
